


Smells Like Team Spirit

by Zadien



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, F/M, Ice Hockey AU, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Team Bonding, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zadien/pseuds/Zadien
Summary: Beyblade Ice Hockey AU wrote in 2003 - cross-posted from ff.net.The Sharks have always won the league, each and every year, but this year will be different. Kai Hiwatari, the ex-captain of the Sharks, now captains the Tigers, the talented yet dysfunctional contenders for the trophy with all their emotional baggage, prank pulling and bitter resentment of change.
Relationships: Hiwatari Kai/Original Female Character(s), Kinomiya Takao | Tyson Granger/Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana, Yuri Ivanov | Tala Valkov/Original Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 4





	1. There's no Kai in Team

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back in 2003, so it's rough but it does improve. I just wanted to post it here because I wanted to give a more user friendly way of reading this fanfic. I'm breaking up some of the chapters, removing scenes that aren't important, expanding on others but it's not a complete rewrite and will not have any impact on later chapters I've already written. 
> 
> Please forgive any typos or anything that's aged terribly, as I said, this is a 17 year old WIP, no 17 year old is perfect.

Kai Hiwatari sat on his bed in the dark, illuminated only by the light of the TV. On-screen, he watched the players from the second and third rated teams in the district: the Tigers and the Warriors. As captain of the Clonmel Sharks, the top team in the district, it was his duty to study the rival teams, regardless of how he personally felt about their talents. Still, as he watched the Tigers, the second-rated team, he grimaced. 

Lots of talent, no doubt about it and they had cultivated some players of note, but as a team, he could see the flaws. A lack of discipline; a bunch of players too busy amusing themselves with no focus on the end goal; too arrogant. It resulted in sloppy passes, sensational attempts at the goal that any goalie worth their salt would block, and equally embarrassing cellies. 

And they had a goalie of worth, he noted skimming the document he'd compiled. Arista Belyaev. Good position, fantastic awareness of space and her percentage of shots saved had to be the reason the Preston Tigers had climbed the ranks. Too bad she'd suffered an injury in the last game and wouldn't be present for their next game, that would leave the Sharks facing down Mariah Wong. He didn't know as much about her. 

His attention snagged on a player in pale blue and navy streak through the crowd. They cradled the puck with their stick, and they ducked, twirled and dodged around their opponents. Those who could intercept were quickly intercepted by the defensive duo of Bryan Kuznetsov and Spencer Petrov. Both of whom were intimidating, not just in size, but in ability. 

The player skidded to stop in front of the goalie, spraying ice. Whipping the stick back in an exaggerated move, they blasted the puck towards the net. It flew through the air in a blurry streak of black. The goalie lunged for it. For a moment, it seemed as though time stopped. 

The lamp lit. The fans erupted with cheers, the noise carrying up to the rafters of the arena. The home band burst to life, playing a fast tempo piece. As the referee called out the score, the player skated off to meet their celebrating team. Bowing with a flourish, they removed their helmet like a top hat and Kai shook his head. Yet another flashy player, he mused, as the girl shoved strands of dark hair from her face and cheerfully accepted the praise of her team. He hoped she tried that in the upcoming game against the Sharks, he'd enjoy stealing the puck out from under her nose when she wound up for the strike. 

The Tiger coach called for a line change and breathless, face flushed with exertion and clammy with sweat, the girl shuffled off the ice, knocking a gloved fist with another player heading onto the ice. 

Kai turned his attention from the screen to his book and flicked the page. 

Amber Benson. 

B student, hockey lover, pseudo-Irish and, per the surname, related to half the team. He knew of her, the one with the sharp tongue, the bright smile and the chill in her gaze whenever she encountered the Sharks. She had a temper, he remembered, had a problem keeping her mouth shut and was easily provoked. It was a weakness shared by a lot of hockey players, and it was one he could play on. Still, it was another reason to be ready for them, he mused, glancing over at the empty bed across from him. 

He turned back to the ice as Benson leapt to her feet, shouting something at the ice as a boy not much taller elbowed her in the ribs. Kai's attention fixed on the player on a breakaway. He straightened. Rei Kon: the captain of the Tigers. Good feet, fast but methodical, never a sloppy pass, never in the wrong place, and if he got near the net, the puck would go in. The problem was that Kon spent more time closing up the holes the rest of his linemates left him, playing more defence than a centre should. He also spent a ridiculous amount of time mediating fights his teammates got involved in. 

More movement on the ice and, when one of the Warriors managed to find some space around the net, the puck flew only to be deflected by the stick of a defenceman. Not one that Kai knew. He recognised the surname emblazoned on the back of the shirt, Kinomiya, since it was shared by a leftwing player, but he didn't remember playing against him. He made a note to follow up on this player just to be on the safe side. The Sharks didn't need any surprises, and while his father, Nicolai Hiwatari, assistant coach of the Sharks, was extremely diligent with his research, Kai knew his mind was elsewhere these days. 

Tala would know, but Tala had left. 

He put that thought to the side and focused on the remaining minutes of the game, including one more goal scored by a Johnny McGregor and a last ditched attempt by the Warriors to claw back a chance. It was too late though, and the Tigers scraped a win. 

Kai closed his laptop, setting it aside and he shifted to lie back on the bed, one arm bent behind his head. His gaze travelled to the empty bed again, and he frowned.

It would be weird getting ready without Tala beside him. For the past two years, they'd attended every game together, roomed together during the school year and spent portions of their holidays together at various training camps. They both had the drive to be the best, to achieve their dreams of playing pro. They'd put up with Boris Balkov's tyrannical method of teaching because it had made them better players and because they knew Kai's dad would step in. 

However, after Nicolai announced his intention to leave at the end of the school year, Tala had seen the writing on the wall and fled the sinking ship. Kai couldn't blame him. When Nicolai left, Kai would go with him. His father had offered him the choice, but Kai wasn't a martyr. He couldn't stay at Clonmel, risk becoming persona-non-grata, just to take advantage of Balkov's contacts. The man would make Kai's life a misery. 

And without Kai or Nicolai, Tala had no reason to stay. Not when he had the option of going back to his old team. 

So no, Kai couldn't resent him for getting out while he could. Kai would do the same thing, though he hoped Nicolai would choose a good team, somewhere where Kai could improve. There were enough teams out there looking for a coach of Nicolai's calibre. 

A knock on the door had him stirring from his thoughts. 

His father eased open the door and popped his head inside the room, letting in the sounds of boys talking and doors closing. 

With the same dark eyes and hair shades darker than Kai's, Nicolai was a good indication of what Kai would look like in a few decades, or so his mother always said. Cut from the same cloth, mini-me, words he'd heard most of his life. He might have found them annoying, if he didn't appreciate all the sacrifices his father made for him, from early morning drives to the ice rink to long Sunday's out by the lake practising drills over and over until Kai was ready to collapse. 

"You nearly ready?" Nicolai asked, scanning the room. "The team needs to be downstairs in an hour. Have you seen Stuart or Carlos?"

Kai raised a brow. "No. Try Trevor." 

Nicolai exhaled loudly, sliding his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks. "Kai, you're the captain, you need to take more interest--" 

"So you keep saying." Kai rolled onto his side. "They'll show up." 

Not like he cared where they were, but he could guess. They were always stirring up some kind of shit, never quite happy unless they were causing issues. And by now they'd probably heard the rumours, that Tala had run back to the Tigers. They would want to confirm that for themselves. Didn't matter that Valkov couldn't possibly play in this final match, that he wouldn't be registered to play. Stuart, Trevor and Carlos shared one brain cell, and it tended to reside in Carlos, so whatever stupid plan he came up with, the other two would follow. 

Not his problem. He just wanted to play hockey. He was no one's babysitter, no captain C was worth that hassle. 

"Look, if you see them, tell them to keep their heads down, Boris is on the warpath. And if you see Brooklyn, tell him the same. I need to run to a meeting before the game and won't be there to run interference." 

With a sigh, Kai sat up. He couldn't do anything about the disappearance of Carlos and Stuart, they'd return whether he wanted them to or not, but he could at least find his remaining vice-captain. After all, they had a game to play that evening and they were already down a player. 


	2. Upcoming Apocalypse.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharks! Sharks everywhere!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I kind of rewrote this whole scene to make it flow better. I hope it works. This story is going to have a few main POVs, running the gamut from Kai and Tala to Amber, even Tyson. So I hope you enjoy this new and hopefully improved version.

As soon as the bell rang at the end of detention, Amber Benson swung from her seat and rushed out the door. She was late. Well, late was an understatement, but since today was Friday the thirteenth and it had started epically bad, she figured she should just settle in for the upcoming apocalypse (otherwise known as Ozuma’s wrath). 

She overtook two girls meandering arm in arm and shot them a dark look. Who loitered within school walls when classes were over, and the sun was shining? 

Another sign of the apocalypse, she decided, pulling a hair tie from her wrist and twisting her black hair into a quick and non-fussy plait. What was she on now? Her second terrible thing? Bad things came in threes, and her first was sleeping in and getting a dressing down from Miss Maye for being late. A theme of the day.

Granted, it hadn’t been detention, which she appreciated, but it had still stung to be berated in front of everyone, followed by the indignity of having to walk to her desk, past the smirking faces with her cheeks burning. A Cruel and unusual punishment.

The second thing was when she’d accidentally laughed—honestly, it was more reflex than actual humour, she mused, as she darted down the stairs, her feet ringing hollowly through the stairwell—when her math teacher stumbled over his briefcase. A harmless bit of mirth. Honestly, the man hadn't looked where he was going, stumbled, turned it into an awkward looking run, then collided with a wall. It wasn’t her fault she laughed. It was forced upon her. 

Of course, she probably shouldn’t have told Kane and Johnny about it as soon as she saw them, and she definitely shouldn’t have reenacted the moment for added hilarity. It was just that good, old, bad luck that caused her to fake run into the door just as Maye opened it so they could collide wonderfully in a tangle of limbs. Much to Johnny and Kane’s delighted guffaws. 

So, she got detention. 

In the afternoon. 

When she had hockey practice. 

On the day of an important game. 

She groaned as she burst outside and felt the warmth of the suns rays. Around her students drifted along the asphalt streets that divided the campus into neat sections and lingered around the multitude of red brick buildings. Preston Academy, in all its glory. Stanley Dickinson, the principal, claimed it had a rich history and produced the best and brightest. Amber wouldn’t hit either of those dizzying heights but, for its sins, Preston had been her home away from home for the past three years, and as long as she passed her end of year exams, she’d return for her final year in September. 

But, if she didn’t hurry to practice, she would be spending that year riding the pine pony. Scowling at herself, she ignored the little wooden signs to keep off the grass and legged it across the lawn. A gardener shouted in her direction, but she kept running, her bag bouncing against her back.   
Soon the hubbub of Preston proper faded away to be replaced by thickly knitted fir trees enclosing the road to the ice rink nestled in the very far corner of the property. Her feet slapped against the asphalt, the smell of tar seeping into her pours from the patches where the sun’s heat had begun to melt. As long as that was the only thing it melted she’d be fine, but she slowed to a walk. 

Coach Dan wouldn’t kill her for being late to practice but Ozuma would try. As assistant captain of the team, her cousin took his position very seriously. Even more seriously than Rei, their actual captain, who was a lot more chill about the little things. Such as her missing the first thirty minutes of practice. 

Again, not technically her fault. 

She was definitely due a third thing. 

She really hoped there wasn’t a third thing but Amber was Irish on her father’s side, Spanish on her mother’s, and she had a healthy dose of superstition. 

There would be a third thing. 

Since the day was more than halfway over, she needed it to happen soon because she didn’t want it hanging like a spectre over her for the upcoming match. Knowing her luck, she'd break a leg. She really didn't want to break a leg.

Not against the Sharks.

She collided with a solid mass and bounced off.

With a gasp of indignation, she stared at the figure in her path. What the hell? She hated when people didn't look where they were going. And who the hell was lurking around their arena? Everyone should have been on the ice already. 

The boy turned and fixed her with dark eyes, shadowed by thick brows. It took a moment to register that Amber didn’t know him. He wasn’t from Preston. He wasn’t one of her team. 

She frowned and took in the menacing tanned face, with dark hair covered by a burgundy bandana. A grim sinking sensation formed in her stomach as she met those cold, empty eyes. No, she didn’t know him, but she recognised him. 

Carlos.

Defenseman for the Sharks. She locked her legs in place, refusing to step back. The guy was twice the size of her slender figure and he radiated hostility, but this was her turf.

"Well, well, look what we have here. A li'l tiger cub," he taunted, voice gruff.

She braced her shoulders, ochre eyes flashing. This was her school, her home, she refused to be intimidated. "Huh, look, a shark! A li'l fishy out of the water. You’re a little early for the game, don’t you think?” 

“We’re not here to play,” Carlos said. 

A movement behind Carlos as another boy stepped into view, skinnier, more effeminate, with a swing of purple hair cut sharply along his jaw bone and a tiny mole below his left eye. Oh good. Two Sharks. 

“Oh. Well, we don’t generally do campus tours during the school year but hey, come back next January for the Open Day. Everyone’s welcome.” She forced a smile, trying not to notice just how isolated the path was. Only those coming to practice, or to watch a match, ventured down this direction and right now wasn’t a peak time for foot traffic. 

The purple-haired boy sneered, his voice nasally and high. “We aren’t here to join your stupid school. We’re here—”

He broke off with a wheeze as Carlos’ fist hit his sternum. 

Carlos stepped in front of her, and her head had to tilt back to look up at him. “You’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you?” 

Her heart began to race like a rabbit against her ribs. Around them, the singing birds and buzzing insects died away, as if the world was holding its breath. 

“Yeah,” she said, with forced brightness. “And eyes. Good enough to see that you two shouldn’t be here and since you are, I assume you’re here to spy on us? Wow. Never thought I’d see the day that the Sharks would be worried about us Tigers but we have been playing really well this year.” She smirked faintly, sliding her hands deep into the pockets of her cargo pants, trying to fiddle with her phone. She could probably phone for help, but her team would be on the ice, their phones in the changing room, and her other friends were in town. She was definitely on her own. 

“We’re not worried about you guys,” Purple hair snarled. 

She withdrew one hand to gesture to their surroundings. “You’re on campus. I can’t imagine you were just out for a stroll and accidentally wandered over to our ice rink.” For one thing, Clonmel was two towns over and for another, well… it wasn’t very realistic, was it? 

Carlos shrugged. “Free country. If we felt like a walk, what are you going to do about it?” 

Time to go, her instincts screamed. 

“Well, lads, it was great catching up with you both, but if you don’t mind, I have to go.” She moved to step around them and flinched when Carlos shifted into her path, his brow lifting mockingly. 

“Can’t have that. You go in there, you tell your team… well, that doesn’t work for us.” 

Amber swallowed hard, hoping her frantic pulse couldn’t be seen at her throat. She needed to get away, get somewhere safe. She didn’t think she could run around them to the arena and running back to the campus proper would take too long. Besides, with both boys having longer legs, they’d easily catch up. 

None of that sounded ideal. 

Shit. 

“Hey, Carlos? I looked, and Tala’s not there.” 

Tala? As in Valkov? Amber angled her head to spy yet another Shark, this time a short boy, approaching from the arena. He sported a white hat with purple trim wedged firmly over thick brown hair, shoulders up to his ears, hands in the pockets of his green shorts as he darted a look around the path.

Three Sharks. Three bad things. 

Her brain seized on his words. Why would Valkov be here? He’d left shortly after their first year in Preston. Upped stakes to go play with the Sharks, a higher calibre of team. Asshole. 

Then it dawned. How else had these three found their way to the middle of the Preston campus? Of course, Valkov had brought them. She always wondered why she was so surprised by how low he would sink. 

With a scoff, she folded her arms tightly across her chest, as Carlos sent her a darkly menacing look. 

“If he’s not here, we should go,” the purple-haired guy said. 

“As I said, we can’t just go. We have a witness.” 

“So? What’s she going to do?”

“Tell her team, Stuart. Which is what we don’t want her doing. Because when she does that, she’ll tell her coach and what will he do? He’ll tell Balkov.”

Stuart paled as he shifted to bring the shorter boy into their circle. “He can’t know we’re here.” 

“Which is why we’re going to have to put her out of commission for a bit. Don’t worry,” Carlos said, flashing a grin that made her blood curdle. “It won’t be for long. Just enough for us to get this game over and done with.” 

Her mouth went dry with fear, and she shifted back an inch, ready to turn and run, or race right through them if she needed to. She allowed her bag to slide from her shoulder and held it with both hands. 

Carlos shook his head. “Don’t be stupid. You can’t fight all three of us, and if you try, we’ll only make things harder on you.” 

“Maybe we should just go.” 

Carlos glowered at the shorter boy. “Shut up, Casey. If Balkov finds out we’re here, we’ll face a lot worse.” 

“We’ll just tie her up and lock her in a closet for a bit. She’ll be fine. A janitor will find her before morning,” Stuart said, and the eerie smile he sent her way made her stomach lurch. She imagined he thought it comforting but she wasn’t comforted. 

“Lads, I’m telling you, you don’t want to be doing this.” 

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. We have no choice.” 

“There are always choices,” she told them, shifting back another inch. “My dad’s a lawyer, you don’t want to do this.” Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to tell them either, she realised as the predatory looks on their faces sharpened. She considered pleading with the shorter one, the weak link in their chain when a shout echoed behind her.  
  
The three boys looked over her head. Carlos hissed and pointed towards the break in the trees. With an exchanged glance, both Stuart and Casey ran off. Stepping forward into her space, Carlos caught her bag when she swung it at him. 

“You tell no one about this.” 

She glowered at him, tugging at her bag before he released it with enough force to send her stumbling back. When she righted herself, he’d merged into the shadows. She stood where she was, softly panting and clutching her bag to her chest until the footsteps reached her. Sucking in a breath to calm herself, she turned to face the two boys jogging closer. Relief all but crushed her when she saw their welcome faces. 

“Tyson, Max.” 

“Amber, are you okay?” Tyson asked, glancing in the direction the three boys had run, even as he rested his hand on her shoulder and Max took her bag. 

She closed her trembling fingers into tight fists and nodded, blowing out a breath, mustering up a brave face for both boys. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Max didn’t look convinced, blue eyes sweeping the tree line as if expecting them to reemerge. “Who was that?” 

She jerked a shoulder. “Sharks. It’s no big deal. Probably here to spy on us. Said something about Valkov.” She made a face. “So how come you two are down this way? Not that I’m not glad you are.” Her very own knights in shining armour, she thought, hooking her arms through their elbows. 

Max slung her bag over his shoulder as they followed the tarmac path to the main entrance of the arena, the fluorescent lights already beaming through the large glass doors. “Figured since we’re going to be joining you guys on the Varsity team in September that we should get some extra ice time and up our game.” 

She grinned, enjoying their enthusiasm. “Ah, nice. You’re early though, we still have an hour on the ice.” 

“Well, maybe we wanted to do our own spying,” Tyson admitted, sheepishly, rubbing his nose. “Hey, you said they were looking for Valkov?”

“That’s what they said.” Her expression darkened, the renewed fury bubbling through her veins. Dirty, rotten, backstabbing bastard. 

“Oh.” 

Something about Tyson’s tone had her stiffening, as she studied his profile. She knew him, they’d grown up next door together in a small suburban culdesac. Two years younger than her but a permanent fixture in all her childhood memories. “What’s oh, Tyson?”

“Just something Hitoshi said,” he muttered distractedly, as he opened the front doors and gestured her inside the brightly lit lobby with the large Tiger logo emblazoned on the floor. 

“What did he say?” Hitoshi was Tyson’s older brother, as much as a fixture in her life as Tyson though a little less appreciated. 

“You know how he’s been doing physio for that knee injury?” 

Yeah. Hitoshi had been on his way to the big leagues when he’d suffered a career-ending injury during a juniors match in Tokyo. There wasn’t much hope of him returning to playing at a professional level, but he was working on getting back to being able to play recreationally at least. Which meant tons of physio. 

“Well his therapist is based out of Clonmel and rumour has it Valkov quit.” 

Amber chest contracted. “Quit?” 

“Yeah, he’s dropped out, getting homeschooled for the rest of the year and then, I dunno. I guess he’ll enrol elsewhere in September.” 

Amber’s world staggered. Shit. Oh shit. If Valkov had left Clonmel and the Sharks were looking here for him… 

Oh, she could put two and two together. She was shite at maths but she could figure this one out. The slimy bastard thought he could come slinking back to them and they’d just welcome him back with open arms? Fat chance. 

“I need to tell the team,” she announced, grabbing her bag from Max and rushing towards the changing room. 

“Tell them that Tala quit Clonmel?” 

“No,” Amber said, pausing to look at them. “Tell them that Tala’s coming back.” 

Max’s brow furrowed. “But you don’t know that.”

“Oh yes, I do.” Because if the Sharks constituted the third bad thing, Valkov returning was definitely the upcoming apocalypse. 


End file.
